


Where Your Love Lies

by UmiHinode



Series: The Story is Eternal [9]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexuality, Canon-Typical Violence, Confessions, F/F, F/M, Family, Friendship, Post-Canon, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 10:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15861687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UmiHinode/pseuds/UmiHinode
Summary: Villains find company in each other.





	Where Your Love Lies

How strange it was, Yagiri Namie pondered, that it was possible for someone to love and hate to such extremes simultaneously.

She had never questioned her ability to experience both individually. Her emotions might as well have fluctuated with the snap of a finger. This was the first time of note, however, that she felt everything all at once.

Naturally, it was all because of Izaya.

In the months since she had resumed working as his secretary, her life had, much to her surprise, known peace. Unable to sacrifice her pride and work for Nebula, Izaya became her only option, for once being the lesser of two evils. She had witnessed it firsthand during the Kishitani-Sturluson Christmas party, after all. Shinra was intent on keeping the two of them apart, but it hadn't stopped her from observing. It hadn't stopped  _anyone_ from observing. Orihara Izaya and Heiwajima Shizuo were having a civil conversation. Not only that - they were smiling, laughing.  _Together._

_He has to be drunk,_ was her first assumption. She  _might_ have caught him enough times in the past to know he was both a lightweight and an absolute wreck. Her guess technically wasn't wrong, but it was far more than met the eye.

_"Why do Shizuo-senpai and Orihara Izaya no longer wish to destroy one another?"_

Sure, Namie had been away from Ikebukuro for two and a half years, but the city couldn't change just like that, right? She became just as perplexed as Varona, unable to give the woman an answer.

Perhaps against her better judgement, she went to Shizuo for answers. Izaya surely would have charged her outrageously, making the generally honest, straightforward Shizuo the better option in spite of her distaste for him otherwise.

_"You're Yagiri-san, right?"_ He had asked. When Namie nodded, he hesitated, running a hand through his hair.  _"Guess I can tell you, then."_

For a moment, she forgot she was talking to Heiwajima Shizuo.  _The_ Heiwajima Shizuo, the strongest man in Ikebukuro. He just stood there, fumbling around as if he wasn't known for having the shortest fuse known to mankind.

In a softer tone, he replied,  _"We're dating."_

Namie struggled to form a coherent sentence.  _Dating?!_ Scoffing in disbelief, she asked,  _"How?"_

Shizuo smiled, stifling a laugh.  _"It just kinda happened."_

With that as her answer, she found herself eternally grateful that she hadn't gone to Izaya. He would have spared no detail - or expenses.

Her hesitance didn't stop her from seeing him again, however. Shizuo was perhaps a little too trusting, giving her Izaya's new number, and she had to wonder just what Izaya had told him. Pushing those thoughts aside, she dialed his number. One ring, two rings, three. Then,  _"Orihara speaking."_

"Pizza delivery," Namie replied with some semblance of a smirk. She had never been fond of her contact name being pizza delivery of all things, but she supposed it could have been worse.

Izaya didn't miss a beat.  _"What's the occasion?"_

"I'd like to work for you again," Namie said, trying her best to not sound as if she had given up the last of her dignity.

Izaya chuckled.  _"You must be desperate."_

"I wouldn't go that far."

_"I'll text you the address. See you tomorrow, nine sharp."_ Before she could answer, Izaya had hung up, and seconds later his text went through, faster than she would have believed humanly possible had she not known him.

The following morning at 8:59 a.m. she knocked at his door, and moments later he appeared. This wasn't the first time she had seen him in all this time, but something about going to his apartment to work, something that had once been normal, felt so unfamiliar as their eyes met. The first time they had met back at the party, she hadn't known anything about what had happened to him in the days following her kidnapping, and evidently, she wasn't the only one out of the loop. For two years, his fate had been unknown to virtually everyone. It was Mika who let the secret slip; how she found out remained a secret to Namie, but it hadn't changed what happened. His time away from Ikebukuro had changed him. Something about him was kinder, more forgiving. She had always been able to see through his facade, but now it was as if he wasn't even trying to hide. She almost dared to say he wasn't the same man.

"Yagiri Namie in the flesh." Izaya's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and when she refocused onto him, she swore she saw a hint of authenticity behind that sly smile. "It's good to see you," he continued, stepping aside so she could enter. With a nod she did, and upon entering, she was immediately taken aback. For a moment, she had forgotten that this wasn't the apartment she had once known. Izaya caught her staring, and she quickly changed the subject before he even had a chance to speak.

"So, what hell are you putting me through today?"

Perhaps there was a smile behind her words.

. . .

It hadn't been easy, getting over Seiji.

That was to be expected. Seiji was the one person who had always been by her side. With her parents frequently out of the picture, she was left with her uncle Seitarou, and her time with him didn't fare much better. He was constantly occupied with his work, particularly the beautiful severed head hidden away in his study. Dolls were Namie's only company until Seiji was born, and how she hated those dolls. But it didn't matter as much any more, because she had a little brother to look after. Seiji became her everything; the one dependent on her, and the one she depended on herself. She truly loved him with all her heart, and for some time, it wasn't wrong to her. She wanted,  _needed_ someone to love and love her in return. Seiji was the only one willing to do so in her eyes. Eventually he became the only person she needed, and perhaps she expected the same of him.

That must have been why it hurt so much, seeing that look in his eyes that day.

That head was Namie's muse. From the moment she first held it in her hands as a child, she had become completely enamored with it. It was enough to interest her in science, the very thing that had stolen away the normalcy her life could have known. Whether fortunately or unfortunately, she was a scientist by birth, with an innate curiosity for the world around her, particularly the head. It was no wonder why she wanted to share it, her passion, with Seiji.

But he loved the head. Not her.

While Namie was entranced by the mystery surrounding the head, she understood it was just that; a head. To Seiji, the head was a person, someone he could love. How many nights had she lay awake wondering where she went wrong, wondering how her brother could fall for a severed head and not her? She showered him with nothing but love, so why, why, why, why,  _why?!_

As she grew older, she grew to understand that her love was wrong. She could love Seiji as a brother, but he would never be able to provide her what she desired. She knew this, but her feelings were unwavering. She was beyond the point of no return. She'd do anything for Seiji's sake, even if it meant putting her at odds with a head. This would eventually pit her against Mika. Mika was just as obsessed, just as devoted to Seiji, and just like Namie, Seiji couldn't return her feelings. He could only love what was above the scar around her neck. Namie could have had sympathy for Mika given their situations, but her jealously only grew. She couldn't help but follow Seiji and Mika to America. They were all she had.

Until she lost everything.

_"I think I'm in love with Mika."_

Before they left for America, Seiji had already grown to consider Mika family, which had already been enough of a threat. She had feared this moment for so long, and she had expected the walls of the universe to collapse around her, crushing her with the harsh realization that she never truly had a chance. She couldn't accept his love for the head, or Mika's love for him. Surely she couldn't accept him falling in love with Mika.

But she smiled.

_"I'm so happy for you, Seiji."_

She smiled, because her brother had finally found happiness. But despite her own happiness, it felt as if someone had stabbed her through the heart a hundred, thousand times. She was more alone than she had ever been. Seeing him only made things worse, but it was inevitable. She couldn't avoid him forever. He made a point to check on her frequently, and she reasoned she didn't even deserve him as a sibling.

He stopped by her apartment one night, which, granted, was right next door to him and Mika, and she supposed she had no choice but to open the door. Without a word, she gestured for him to sit down, and the two sat in a rather uncomfortable silence, Namie refusing to speak, occupying herself with a glass of wine.

"Sis," Seiji finally said firmly. "Please talk to me."

Namie frowned. "What is there to talk about?"

"You," Seiji replied, and she could hear him holding back his frustration. Seiji typically wasn't one to lose his temper.

Namie set her glass down. She couldn't stifle a chuckle before she said, "What, about how I'm a pathetic, despicable woman?"

"You shouldn't let that hold you back."

"How kind," Namie grumbled in response, crossing her arms. "Seiji, how can you look at me and see any good?"

"I don't," he replied bluntly before hurriedly cutting off a scowling Namie. "Not yet. But that doesn't mean there isn't any. You just have to live, grow."

Namie almost laughed at how nonchalant he was. Instead of laughing, before she knew it, there were tears streaming down her face. Taken aback, she jumped from her seat, turning her back to Seiji and leaving the room. Seiji called to her, and she called back once her voice was stable, "It's funny. I'm supposed to be the older sibling, but I've always been the one depending on you, haven't I?"

Seiji cautiously approached her, and quietly he said, "Namie, you can always depend on me."

And the tears began again. The last, and only other time he had called her by her given name had been out of anger. Unable to avert her gaze any longer, she turned to face him, embracing him and burying her head in his shoulder, silent save for muffled sobbing.

Forcing herself into solitude had given her far too much time to think; about her twisted love, about her failed career, how lost she was, and just who she was. How much of herself had she forgotten after all these years, and how much was left to salvage? Was she truly nothing more than an overambitious, arrogant villain in love with her brother? Was Seiji truly the only one in her life, or had she just pushed everyone else away?

In the months following Seiji's confession and her subsequent return to Ikebukuro, she sought to answer these questions. Slowly but surely, the Yagiri Namie who once saw everyone and everything as rubbish began to open her eyes. It was simple at first, as she found her gaze lingering on the men that passed her by. Surprisingly, it wasn't too odd for her. For the first time, it felt natural to find a man attractive.

What complicated things was when she dreamed about when she had kissed Mika.

Naturally, she woke up disgusted, because Mika was barely an adult and she was in a committed relationship with Seiji. Namie could acknowledge these things. Her disgust had nothing to do with Mika being a woman, though she was certainly confused. She had no reason to consider women as an option, or anyone aside from Seiji for that matter. Perhaps it was a sign.

Sure enough, Namie found her gaze lingering on both men and women; still only a select few, because it would take some time for her to let go of her arrogance. It was difficult, but for the first time, she had faith. Returning to Ikebukuro was a breath of fresh air. Finally, she was home. There were very little pieces for her to pick up and place back together, having lost Yagiri Pharmaceuticals, but she could make it work. While in Chicago, she had grown quite fond of her job as a barista at a local-run coffee shop. She was hopeful to get a similar job now that she was home, but fate led her back to Izaya.

Not that she'd ever admit such a ridiculous thing.

Still, it was somewhat relaxing, working for him again. The work was nothing compared to other jobs, and for outrageous pay. She had no problem supporting herself on her earnings from before even as she lived in America. It was the ideal job, if you excluded having Izaya as a boss.

Soon, even that was a soothing thought. It didn't take her long to realize that maybe, just maybe, she was falling for him. After all, she had a bad habit of falling for the ones she could never have. There was just something about him that she couldn't quite place. Some things were easy to see; that he was a despicable man, and by the same token, she was a despicable woman. But they were learning, growing. Just as Seiji had wanted of her.

Strangely, it might have been his honesty that really got her.

Izaya's poor sleeping habits had been no stranger to Namie, but that morning was the first time she had arrived at his apartment and he wasn't awake waiting for her. She had a spare key, but the door was carelessly left unlocked. For a moment, she feared the worst, but once she reached his room, she left out a breath she didn't know she was holding. He was still breathing. Cautiously, she shook his shoulder, murmuring his name, waiting for him to awake.

He soon stirred, sitting up and letting out a long yawn. "Oh," he said upon realizing she was there, ready to work. "Sorry. I took Shizu-chan out a little too late last night."

_So it is true._ She thought with a smile somehow both amused and sad. Curious, she asked, "How late?"

"Four a.m."

"I think I actually respect Heiwajima now."

Izaya smiled. "Now, now, Namie-san."

"What?" She asked, grinning in return. "He has more impulse control than I thought."

"He's changed quite a bit," Izaya replied.

"Has he."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have to change, too." He couldn't even finish what he had started without cringing. Neither could Namie.

"I hope you know how awful that was."

With a weak chuckle, Izaya replied, "Feel free to poison me today. Consider it a free pass."

"I might just take you up on that," Namie said as she closed the door and headed back to the office with a smile.

Part of her had been tempted to tell him that he had already changed, had it not been for his sleep deprived brain ruining the atmosphere. Before, he had been nothing more than a bother. Now when she looked at him, she saw someone all too human, a mere shell of the man who had proclaimed that Celty Sturluson would take him to Valhalla, the puppet master pulling the city's strings. He was weak, and he didn't try to hide it. Not that it stopped him being a stubborn bastard, but it was a noticeable change. He was nice; not kind, but it was a step in the right direction. He actually smiled now, not always hiding behind that defense mechanism of a smirk. Dealing with his antics was no longer a chore.

All of humanity still hated his guts, for the most part, but she supposed she and Shizuo were the two exceptions to that generalization. She chuckled to herself as she waited for him to enter the room.  _If Heiwajima can fall for him, anyone can._

So she did. Maybe the spark had already been there before; she'd never really know, but it wasn't as if it mattered. Izaya never let her forget that Shizuo was in the picture. She didn't mind; this was the kind of lifestyle she was used to, chasing after those who would never return her feelings.

It was just nice to have a friend by her side.

Well, most of the time.

. . .

Love and hate pulled her heart into a tug of war as Izaya wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder, peering over it into the boiling pot in front of them. Shizuo was working late that night, both of them were hungry after a long day of work, and this wouldn't be the first time Namie had cooked dinner. She had never minded much before, aside from a minor incident where Izaya just barely avoided getting stabbed, and it was no different now.

Mostly.

"Namieeeee."

"-san," she corrected, not batting an eye. "Easy, Orihara. I don't want Heiwajima to kill me in my sleep."

Izaya laughed, unmoving. "You're taking this better than I thought you would."

"I'm surprised myself," she replied, setting the knife in her hand down. "Are you going to let go of me now?"

Izaya hummed in response. "I wonder, how long can you keep up your facade?"

Namie's eyes wandered to the knife once again.  _How am I attracted to this man..._ "You must have a death wish. Looking for someone to fill the void Heiwajima left behind now that you're in love?"

"It's a simple test, Namie."

She might have flinched.  _"-san,"_  she pressed once more.

"We're friends, aren't we?"

"Now that you've said it it's been ruined."

Izaya released her with a sigh, and defeated, he sauntered off to the living room. Namie managed a smile as she watched him go before her focus returned to the vegetables she was chopping up. "You're awful, playing with a woman's feelings, you know."

"Oh?" Izaya perked up. "You're admitting it?"

Namie shrugged her shoulders. "There's no point in hiding what you already know. Besides, I know better than to think anything will happen between us."

"You've learned quite a bit, haven't you?"

"Don't patronize me," she murmured with a smile.

Izaya, restless as ever, returned to the kitchen, pacing around as he spoke, "You'll find someone. In fact, I think you already have."

Ah, of course. He wasn't going to let that go, was he?

Shortly after she had begun working for him again, perhaps only a week later, he had asked,  _"There's another reason why you started working for me, isn't there?"_

_"And what if there is?"_ She responded, meeting his gaze over her cup of coffee.

_"I'm curious, that's all."_

Sighing, Namie replied,  _"Heiwajima's little girlfriend asked me why you two didn't want to kill each other any more."_

_"Varona, huh?"_ Izaya smiled. "I would've thought the answer would be obvious to her."

_"Evidently not,"_  Namie said, and she couldn't help but notice Izaya's brows raise, ever so slightly.  _"But it got me thinking. I wanted to understand why myself."_

_"You know, Namie-san,"_  Izaya began, making it Namie's turn to be taken aback.  _"You didn't seem all that happy saying 'girlfriend.'"_

Had she? She hadn't even noticed. But, of course, Izaya wasn't going to let it go. Once again, Namie became occupied by her thoughts. Varona  _was_ attractive, she wouldn't deny that. Those mysterious violet eyes, the black dress perfectly complimenting her porcelain skin and slim figure, the faint smirk that tugged at her lips, though only for a second. Perhaps if this woman hadn't aimed a gun at her immediately upon meeting her, she might have wanted to get to know her.

It had been a while since she had been held at gunpoint.

Honestly, she should have expected as much after returning. Her safety had already been enough a gamble before she had left; perhaps before her uncle and Kujiragi Kasane abducted her would be a better comparison. Surely they, or someone else would be searching for her, ready to finally make their move now that she was at a disadvantage.

But Yagiri Namie wasn't a fool. Granted, bringing a knife to a gunfight wasn't the preferred outcome, but it was better than being unarmed against a woman who couldn't even be labeled as a mere serial killer with her body count.

Actually, perhaps she was a fool. Typically when a villain such as herself heard an unfamiliar voice say her name in a low voice, it couldn't mean anything good, and that remained true for this situation. She didn't turn, she didn't speak, she simply stopped in her tracks.

That voice, far gentler and calm than she would have expected, sounded again in question.  _"You are employed by Orihara Izaya, yes?"_

Orihara Izaya. She could almost laugh. Someone hadn't been well informed. Either one of them was an idiot or they both were, for Namie turned to face her and the woman didn't shoot. It didn't take her long to place a name to this face; the woman known only as Varona. A Russian fugitive who lived for the thrill of the kill, and who had found herself working under Heiwajima Shizuo. The irony of it was laughable, but it wasn't the time or place.

_"Oh, is Heiwajima having you do the dirty work for him?"_  She sneered.  _"Fortunately, I'm no longer under his employ."_

Point blank and without lowering the gun, Varona replied,  _"Shizuo-senpai has asked nothing of me. I am here of my own volition."_

_"What did Izaya do to you?"_  Namie asked, stifling a chuckle.

_"Why do Orihara Izaya and Shizuo-senpai no longer wish to destroy each other?"_

Namie could only ask,  _"What?"_

_"Shizuo-senpai relayed this to me himself, but I find it unfathomable,"_  Varona explained, though it didn't serve as much of an explanation.  _"I feel that I must destroy this enemy of his."_

Namie raised her brows. Had this woman lost her mind?  _"You should stay as far away from Izaya as possible. Believe me, if Heiwajima can't kill him, no one can."_

_"You underestimate me,"_  Varona retorted, gun unwavering.  _"I have never failed to eliminate a target."_

_"So I've heard."_  An amused smirk took the place of Namie's prior confusion.  _"Tell me, how many people have you killed?"_

The gun quivered in Varona's hands.  _"One hundred and seventy-six."_

Faintly, Namie muttered,  _"So you know the number, too."_

_"You are a strange woman, Yagiri Namie."_  Varona withdrew her gun, her eyes following Namie's knife as she cautiously withdrew it as well.  _"I will retreat for now, but do not accept this as defeat."_

With a chuckle, Namie said,  _"I wouldn't dream of it."_  Dumbfounded, she watched Varona as she left, her mind creating far more questions than she would have liked.

_A hundred seventy-six people... she could have easily added me to that list._ With a bit of a fiendish smile she thought to herself,  _She was going to try and use me, but is she really that smart?_ Varona seemed far too childish, and ignorant, to have that much blood on her hands. Namie couldn't help but scowl at the thought of Izaya reveling in this development.

She chose to leave that bit out of her retelling, though Izaya was just as entertained regardless. Certainly he'd be even more so knowing that she'd run into the woman again by chance around a month later.

Varona hadn't been kidding when she told Namie to not accept her retreat as defeat. Fortunately she was smart enough to not challenge her in the middle of the street, gesturing instead for Namie to follow her. With some spare surgical tools hidden in her purse, Namie wasn't too worried.

"So, have you found an answer to your question yet?" She brought herself to ask.

Varona frowned. "I am not too concerned with that. I simply wish to fight you."

"Way to be upfront," Namie laughed to herself. "What, did leaving with your tail in between your legs hurt your ego, Voronin-san?"

Though she had opened her mouth, waiting for the chance to protest, Varona soon bit her lip. Namie stifled another laugh. Sure enough, Izaya had been right.

_"If you use her real name, it's easy to catch her off guard."_

Namie hardly had a chance to react as Varona lunged at her, her reflexes saving her from being stabbed in the chest. Varona's knife collided with the wall of the alleyway behind her. With Varona panicking, Namie hurriedly slung her bag off of her shoulder and grabbed the first thing she could find. Clutching the amputation saw, she waited for Varona to turn around, both curious and anxious to see the look in her eyes.

_She's really going to kill me._

_Dammit dammit dammit dammit damn-_

Namie's hand moved on its own, the saw narrowly shielding her from the following attack, holding off any others as neither could move. Against her better judgement, Namie swung her free fist, but for Varona, this was an opportunity. Latching onto Namie's arm, she ducked underneath it. Namie whirled, desperate to keep up, but Varona had her by the arm, forcing the saw to fall to the ground, Namie's face landing mere centimeters away as her opponent pinned her to the ground.

_This is pathetic._ Namie cursed her inexperience. Perhaps she had always been pathetic, having her subordinates do the dirty work for her, even being outsmarted, at least momentarily, by a then high school girl. Blood pounded in her ears as heart felt as if it would beat out of her chest. She was going to die, but she wasn't scared.

This was the most fun she'd had in a while.

Varona cried out as Namie shifted her weight underneath her, stabbing her heels into Varona's thighs, giving her a split second to crawl far enough away, grasping for the saw. Varona reached for her knife once again, and the clamor of steel hitting steel echoed through the alley, over and over again, the women perfectly matched. That is, until Namie aimed beyond, reaching out for Varona's head, just to give her a scare. Had she not jerked her head away at that moment, it might have been more than a scare.

Namie swore she saw Varona smile as she lowered the knife and said, "I apologize. This was not meant to be a fight to the death."

"Last time we met you called me strange, but I think that title belongs to you," Namie replied, and she hurried to stifle a laugh as her lips formed a smile. She was pretty odd, but it was endearing, if her own smile told her anything. Without thinking, she asked, "Do you want to go get coffee?"

Varona blinked at her, unable to respond.

"Well, maybe we are both strange," Namie added, ready to turn her heel and leave her behind, though she stopped when Varona spoke.

"That would be nice."

Namie faced her with a pleased, albeit smug, smile. The coffee shop she and Izaya often frequented was just around the corner, fortunately leaving little time for awkward small talk on the way. She had gotten herself into this mess, and had no idea how to find her way out. Who was she, asking the person she had just fought in an alleyway if she wanted to go out for coffee with her? It wouldn't be the first time her arrogance had gotten the better of her, but it would be the first time she had invited someone out. Well, besides Seiji, which never went well, or Mika, whom she only invited out with the intention of killing her.

_Is this a date?_ Her mind naturally wandered as she entered the shop, Varona stopping at her side as they waited in line. She could feel her face heating up, and her composure wavering. This was a date, wasn't it? She had really invited Varona out for coffee with her, spur of the moment, because she was pretty and interested her in just how strange she was. She had really done it.

Yagiri Namie was twenty-eight years old and she had never been on a date before.

No, maybe she was overthinking. She was a bit of a hopeless romantic. Varona certainly wasn't treating it like a date as they took their seats. She was dead silent, completely invested in her strawberry frappuccino, almost reminding Namie of a child with her enthusiasm. The way her eyes lit up hardly made her seem like the person she had just fought.

"So, Varona-san," Namie began hesitantly, intertwining her fingers in front of her. "What brings you back to Ikebukuro? I had heard that you'd left for Russia."

Varona set her drink down, and the glow in her eyes faded. "Work," was all she said.

"Ah, with Heiwajima," Namie replied. "I bet that's...interesting." With only a nod to go off of, she sighed, resting her chin in her hand, absentmindedly sipping her drink. After a moment, she asked, "You're not very talkative, are you?"

"What would you like to hear?"

Namie rested her arms back down on the table, shrugging her shoulders in response. "What are you interested in, I guess?"

"Fighting, reading..."

_Finally, something!_ Namie could have cheered. "What do you like to read?"

Varona shrugged. "Anything."

"Anything?" Namie echoed. With a small, hopeful smile, she asked, "You wouldn't happen to be interested in scientific journals, would you?"

Varona nodded.

Namie could hardly contain herself. She was ashamed, and felt it was pathetic to be so excited when she could hardly call herself a scientist anymore, but she had grown quite fond of reading. Of course, nothing could prove to be quite as interesting as her own research on the head of a Dullahan, but there was still some intrigue.

She had expected to gush about a few articles she had recently read with little to no feedback from Varona, but once she began talking, Varona became a human encyclopedia, rambling on and on about anything and everything. Namie herself had gotten so wrapped up in just listening to Varona speak that she was late for work.

As quickly as possible, she exchanged numbers with Varona and rushed out of the building, shakily texting Izaya. She wasn't even upset that she was late. She was just hopeless.

She didn't even notice Izaya smiling as he caught her daydreaming later that day.

. . .

She knew she could only choose one, and that her choice had essentially been made for her. Izaya would never love her. She knew this. No matter how comfortable they got around one another, he'd never fully let her in. She knew this, and she was okay with it.

But how she longed to reach out to him.

To wrap her arms around him on the rare occasions that he cooked for her, to try on that disgustingly comfortable looking jacket of his, to lie beside him, hand in hand. To love, and to be loved for the first time.

Yet, whenever she was with Varona, he became nothing more than an afterthought.

She was good as gone the moment she heard Varona laugh for the first time.

"So you're not a robot after all," she teased, unable to stop smiling.

Varona could only smile as well.

It wasn't love. Not yet, at least. It would take some time for her to be able to regain what she had felt for Seiji. But whether or not she'd get there was worth finding out.

After all, Orihara Izaya and Nastasya Voronin were villains, and villains found company in each other, particularly those doing their best to change.

Mostly doing their best.

. . .

Before she knew it, July had come around the corner, and with that came Varona's birthday. Namie wasn't one for any sort of celebrations, but working with Shizuo was a request from Izaya that even she couldn't bring herself to refuse.

Shizuo was insufferable to get along with, almost making it difficult for her to remember that this was for Varona.

"Listen, if you don't want to be a part of this, you don't have to. I just thought, since you like her and all-" He stopped upon noticing just how flushed Namie's face was getting.

"I never said that," she hurriedly retorted before taking a moment to compose herself. "I have been a little negative, sorry. I'd love to do something for her. I had something in mind, but..."

"What was it?"

Namie turned her head. "Nothing in particular. I just wanted to show my gratitude. She's done a lot for me lately, whether she intended to or not." She was still blushing, and Shizuo couldn't help but smile.

"Why don't you tell her then?"

Namie froze before whirling to face him, standing as tall as she could in her heels up against Shizuo's height. "As if!"

Shizuo's suggestion haunted her the following morning, even more so when it finally came time to head for the bakery where they were celebrating.  _Tell her I'm thankful?_ She scoffed.  _I couldn't. Especially not in front of Heiwajima. All of this is ridiculous!_

It was ridiculous, but something tugged at the ever cold Yagiri Namie's heartstrings.

"This is simply...strange," Varona murmured. "Not once have I celebrated this day, nor anyone else."

Tom finally managed to look back, concern written all over his face. "Are you doing okay?"

Varona blinked at him. "What do you mean?"

"I've been a little worried," he continued. "I mean, just a few months ago you wanted Shizuo to kill you. Now we're hearing that you've never celebrated a birthday. Maybe it's not my place as your boss, maybe it is. I just worry about you."

"I do not need your concern," Varona responded, significantly less hostile than any of her company would have expected. "Your words have helped me greatly, Tanaka-senpai."

Tom raised his brows. "What did I say?"

"That a reason to live is unnecessary." That small smile of hers found its way back to her. "I must simply live."

_That's...surprisingly good advice, coming from someone like him._ Namie thought to herself.  _You don't need a reason to live. You just do._

Namie found herself remembering the impulsive Yagiri Namie who had asked Varona out for coffee without a second thought, and how in the time since, she had gained someone she could call a friend, that she longed to refer to as more.

She wasn't going to hold back any longer.

As Varona opened the door to leave the bakery, Namie called out to her, meeting her at the door.

"I...wanted to tell you thank you."

Varona raised her brows. "You have no reason to thank me. You assisted Shizuo-senpai in organizing this, did you not?"

Namie shook her head. "That's not what I mean."

_Thank you for putting up with me. Thank you for reminding me of my passion. Thank you for showing me that recovery takes time. Thank you for giving me something to believe in. Thank you for being you, with your strange speech, your childish love of cake, your adorable laugh; all your eccentricities._

"Varona, I...I like you."

She had a bad habit of falling for the ones she could never have, but perhaps things could be different. Perhaps someone as twisted as her could find love after all, with someone struggling, just like her.

And what Varona said was...

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist the cliffhanger, sorry. (￣ω￣)
> 
> Hello everyone! Sorry it's been so long. I started college a few weeks ago and school is my top priority, so writing has been a bit slow. On top of that, I suffer from a pretty severe case of carpal tunnel syndrome because I'm kind of an idiot who is only just now attempting serious treatment. Half of this fic was written singlehandedly because of that, so I apologize for any typos or errors.
> 
> Finally, we get a full length one shot focusing on Namie! I've really only showed her story in brief snippets so I wanted to do her justice, especially since I have a lot I want to explore with her. I've recently gotten really attached to her as a character and her unexplored potential. I wanted to explore the possibility of her moving on from Seiji, and that desire spawned so many questions I wanted, needed to answer. I hope I did those answers justice.
> 
> I do think this was a step backward from Unwavering Thoughts in terms of quality, though. Especially the fight scene. yikes. I can't write fight scenes, we know this. Once I had the idea in my head though, I knew I wasn't getting rid of it. Really wish I could read my writing without my personal bias...
> 
> There are still some gaps in this story that I intend to fill, so don't worry! If you haven't read Complications or Bittersweet already, I would highly recommend doing so. I didn't want to become a broken record and repeat everything. That aside, I will definitely show more of Izaya and Namie, particularly Izaya's feelings (nothing romantic, don't worry, he's completely faithful to Shizuo). And of course I have to show Varona's answer! That probably won't be for a while, though. It's so much fun writing for Namie and Varona, but I've had so much focus on them lately, so I'd like to shift gears for a bit.
> 
> The next fic I'd love to write is Masaomi-centric, particularly about how hard it can be to forgive. (wink wink) But what I'd love to do more is write what you all want to see! Please, if you have any suggestions, let me know! I've made it my goal to release 1 one shot every month, but with school, it's hard telling not knowing. Updates, as always, will be posted to the series notes.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading! Your support truly means the world to me.


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